


Don't Tease

by GhostGarrison



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Fluff, M/M, Neck Kissing, Purple Hawke, Teasing, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:23:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGarrison/pseuds/GhostGarrison
Summary: Covered in weeks worth of grime, blood, and darkspawn guts, Anders is just happy to finally be back at Hawke's estate after their third trip to the Deep Roads. The first bath gets them clean, while the second bath gets them ontoother activities.





	Don't Tease

They get a lot of strange looks as they make their way through Hightown. Covered in the grime of traveling for four weeks straight, Hawke and Anders must make quite the sight to the merchants and nobility strolling the streets. They’re returning from their third trip to the Deep Roads, having slain countless monsters, dragons, and rescuing a few people who were in over their heads. 

Though Anders has been in the Deep Roads numerous times, for even longer than this, he still finds that it never gets any easier.

Arriving to Hawke’s estate brings a huge wave of relief over the both of them, but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re still in their armor, soaked in blood and covered in bits and pieces of darkspawn and deepstalkers. Anders knows they must look just as disgusting as he feels. 

Orana tries but fails to hide how her nose wrinkles when they pass, her voice and smile strained as she welcomes them home.

“Welcome back, messere! Good to see you’ve returned,” Bodahn says, his eyes flicking over the two of them. “Ah, I’ll run a bath for you immediately.”

“I’ll handle it,” Hawke says, taking Anders’ hand and heading toward the stairs. “But something to eat would be greatly appreciated.”

“Of course, messere. Come now, my dear boy,” the dwarf says, beckoning to his son. “Let’s go see what we can find for Serah Hawke.”

The stairs are almost too much for Anders’ sore legs, but they finally make it to the the master suite’s private bathing chamber. He shuts the door behind them for privacy, turning to see that Hawke has already begun shucking off his gear and he quickly follows.

The porcelain tub lies awaiting for them, set in the middle of the room like a centerpiece. Anders remembers when Hawke first bought it only a week after moving into the mansion. Hawke talked about it for days until it’s delivery, giddy like a boy on his nameday. Anders will admit that he’s indulged in it many times, something he’s not had the opportunity to have in his entire life until being invited into Hawke’s home. A warm comforting soak in a spacious tub, with reliable assurance of privacy.

Anders grimaces at the way his stockings cling to his feet when he pulls them off, setting them aside as he moves to remove his undertunic. His eyes drift to Hawke, who is a little further along in the process.

Never one to be methodical, Hawke unceremoniously tosses his filthy armor in the corner; a problem for another time. When he sees streaks of dried blood on Hawke’s skin, Anders has a slight panic attack before realizing it isn’t Hawke’s blood. He made sure to heal every single one of Hawke’s injuries, but Maker forbid he missed one. The blood caked to Hawke’s skin just proves how much bloodshed there had been, so much that it soaked through Hawke’s leathers, quite possibly staining them permanently. Though Anders can’t say that his own robes are in any better shape.

Finally down to his skin, Hawke raises a hand with his palm facing the tub. Anders can feel the hum of magic before the ice springs forth, filling the tub and frosting the rounded edges like dew in early winter. Hawke settles his hand on the surface of the ice, quickly melting it to steaming water.

“Don’t waste your mana like that,” Anders says. They’ve both used a lot of mana in the past day or so, fighting their way back to the surface and the gates of Kirkwall. They need rest, to do things the old fashioned way until they feel less drained.

“I won’t next time,” Hawke promises, but he always says that. Already standing in the tub, he extends out his hand and looks at Anders expectantly.

Anders rolls his eyes but accepts Hawke’s steadying hand as he helps him into the tub.

The water is warm but not hot, a welcomed temperature that goes far in making Anders feel at home. They settle at opposite ends of the tub, legs slotted around each other as they make themselves fit. The tub may be more spacious than most, but they are two grown men—Anders is taller but Hawke more broad.

The water quickly becomes tinged with copper-brown as they scrub at their skin with rough washcloths. As much as Anders would like to savor the bathwater, their first and foremost mission is to rid themselves of the grime and stench of all the things they’ve killed in the past four weeks. Hawke’s soap is expensive and smells of lavender, adding suds to the murky water as they both use it to wash whatever it is that has crusted in their hair. Anders tries not to think about it.

It takes time, but Anders’ body is finally clean and he feels like a new man. He sets his eyes on a fluffy towel set out, rising to get out of the tub until a hand wraps around his wrist.

“Let’s soak for a bit,” Hawke says.

Anders looks down at the clouded water and arches a brow. “In that?”

Hawke’s hold on Anders loosens as he rolls his eyes. “Yes, Anders, let’s sit in the crud and muck of the Deep Roads! It’ll be relaxing!” Hawke says sarcastically, but with a smile. “No, I meant with a fresh bath.”

Anders doesn’t even need a second to consider his answer. “Yes, let’s.”

He insists on using his own mana to refill the tub this time, and somehow the bath seems more appealing than before, most likely because their goal isn’t getting clear of darkspawn guts but relaxing instead.

Hawke sinks into the water first, letting out a hiss then a long shuddering sigh. Anders thinks he made the water a touch too hot, but Hawke seems to enjoy it. He ends up resting against the curved back of the tub, gesturing for Anders to settle between his parted legs.

Settled into the water—scaldingly hot, but just cool enough to be bearable—Anders finds his waist encircled by two thick arms, pulling him flush against Hawke’s chest. If someone asked him, right at this moment, where the best place in all of Thedas is, Anders would respond with ‘ _right here._ ’

They rest together in utter peace, completely silent except for the slight sloshing of water as they adjust their positions until they find something comfortable.

“Mmm, this is nice,” Anders murmurs, nearly melting right there in his lover’s warm embrace.

He feels Hawke crane his neck, pushing his face into the crook of Anders’ shoulder and neck and taking a deep inhale. “You smell good.”

Anders chuckles, tilting his head to rest against the side of hawke’s. “All thanks to your soap.”

“You always do,” Hawke says, nudging his nose in closer.

“Even covered in darkspawn intestines?”

“Even then.”

“Liar.”

“Mmm… maybe.”

They stay like that for a time, but soon Hawke—being _Hawke_ —becomes restless. While Anders would be content to sit there for hours, re-warming the bathwater every now and then, Hawke’s mind and body are a little more jumpy.

Hawke’s arms loosen their hold around Anders, hands reverently dragging across his skin underwater. Broad fingertips trace lazy lines across Anders’ chest, leaving little wet trails in their wake. Surrendering to the touch, Anders’s eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head back, resting it against Hawke’s shoulder while the other man continues exploring.

It’s only when Hawke’s hands trail deeper beneath the water that pulls Anders back from the blurred floating feeling he was disappearing into.

“ _Oh,_ ” he breathes.

“Mm,” Hawke hums in reply.

Movements becoming more bold, Hawke’s hands edge ever closer to Anders’ stirring cock. When calloused palms glide down the soft skin of his thighs, Anders spreads his legs ever so slightly, wordlessly encouraging the man.

But Hawke’s hands retreat back to his stomach, drawing a small, frustrated groan from Anders’ lips. He feels the rumble of Hawke’s chuckle against his back and he can practically feel the man smirk against his shoulder. Hawke’s hands dance around his chest and navel, absently drawing lines across his skin. Hawke’s lips haven’t left his shoulder once, sucking a bruise on it just below the collar line.

Anders’ whole body jolts when Hawke’s hand reaches to flick and pinch a sensitive nipple, something Hawke knows he loves. His other hand trails deeper, the pad of a finger slowly tracing a line up Anders’ now hard cock. 

“Don’t tease,” Anders gasps, a request to stop and continue at the same time. Anders bucks under the man’s skilled fingers, bidding for more.

Instead of wrapping his hand around him as Anders desperately needs, Hawke edges around it, reaching down to cup his balls. Anders keens softly, knees hitching up in unconscious response. Biting Anders’ shoulder, Hawke fondles them gently before pulling back to continue his torment elsewhere.

Unable to take any more of the delicious torture, Anders abruptly rips from Hawke’s arms and stands. He quickly steps out of the tub, snatching a towel to wrap around himself. He flings another one at Hawke’s face, who catches it just in time.

Hawke stares up at him, his face lined with worry that he’s done something incredibly wrong.

“I swear to _flaming Andraste, Hawke,_ but if you don’t take me to bed and finish what you’ve started, I will finish this myself,” Anders says, turning to stride toward the bedroom.

He cannot help but to laugh when he hears the splashing sound of Hawke nearly falling out of the bathtub as he scrambles to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> written for a tumblr prompt for pikestaff
> 
> find me there @ storybookhawke


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